


That Night

by StreetSolo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU: Not Hunters, brooding!cas, depressed!cas, normal!cas, normal!dean, nothunter!cas, nothunter!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is having a hard time. After he lost his ex, Balthazar, due to Anna's manipulations, Castiel finds comfort in the arms of an old friend, Dean Winchester. But does Dean want a relationship or is he looking for something else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Night

**Author's Note:**

> \--Based on a True Story--
> 
> Hi guys! So this story has been in the process of being written over the past month. Right now I'm leaving it as a one-shot, but there may be more parts coming if I get enough requests for it.

It had been a long time since Castiel had first seen Dean. Back in November, when Castiel had taken the last college class of his undergraduate career, a writing class he had neglected to take earlier, he had met Dean Winchester, who was simply looking into taking easy classes to fulfill his general education credits. The teacher was a nightmare at worst and a bore at best, a skinny black-haired woman who treated Chaucer like a god and Dickinson like a whore. Among her many atrocities included calling a guitar "the dullest of all musical instruments," chewing gum while she spoke, and keeping them the strict two hours allotted for class time, even when there was nothing else to do. On their fourth class, even though they had finished a full twenty minutes early, she instructed them all to rest their heads on their desks and "reminisce back to nap time in their kindergarten days." It was a true nightmare to anyone of sane mind.

On his first day out of class, Dean had walked up beside Castiel as he was leaving, attempting to make small-talk. "That Mary, huh?" Castiel hadn't remembered Mary was the teacher's name, as it seemed odd to refer to teachers so informally. Instead, he had opted to call her, "Ms. Batter." Ms. Batty was more like it.

"Yeah," Castiel shook his head in agreement. "I don't know how I'm going to make it through the quarter."

"It's only for ten weeks," Dean shrugged. "I'm sure you'll find some way to get through it."

"Four hours a week though?" Castiel asked. "I don't know, it seems more like torture than class."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "I don't even know why I'm taking this class. I saw writing and figured it'd be easy. Maybe I should drop it."

"Get out while you still can," Castiel joked with a grin. "I mean, I need one writing class to graduate, so I might as well just stay where I am."

"Oh, graduating?" Dean asked, sounding interested. "That's cool. I have one more year here myself. That makes you a fifth year, right?"

"Fourth," Castiel answered. "I actually took my internships over the summer, so I'm graduating a year early."

"Oh, that's cool," Dean responded. "What major are you?"

"Civil engineering," Castiel answered. "You?"

Dean shrugged. "Eh, a little of this, a little of that."

"Multidisciplinary?" Castiel clarified.

"Sure," Dean answered flatly, as if he didn't really care. They headed out the double doors of the building. "So where you headed off to now?"

"Psychology," Castiel answered, making a face. He had this writing class from two to four, and then psychology from four to eight. His first class had started at eight in the morning. "What about you?"

"Heading to the gym," Dean answered. The gym was to the left. The liberal arts building, where the psychology classes usually were, was off to the right.

"Well, I'll see you around," Castiel said pleasantly. "Well, maybe, unless you drop it." He started to walk off to the right.

Dean turned to face him, taking small steps backwards. "Well, if you're staying, I might as well stay."

Castiel made a small "heh" and felt the tips of his ears burn red, but did not turn around. Dean did show up to the next writing class, and the one after that, and the one after that. Dean would make small talk at the beginning of class, nothing outrageously flirty, just friendly, and Cas was starting to wonder whether or not Dean was really interested in him. He would give off small signs, then take them away just as quickly.

Not like Cas was really focused on what Dean was doing. Outside of campus, Castiel had started sleeping with his long-time friend who was teaching him guitar. Balthazar had graduated two years ago and was working locally for a small programming company. Since he was salaried and set his own hours, he fit into Castiel's schedule perfectly, sleeping in on days when Castiel didn't start until late and even coming over past midnight to help Castiel with his homework. At first Balthazar just wanted a friends-with-benefits relationship, which Castiel was more than okay with. The past four years of his college career, he had dated a degenerate named Crowley, who he later discovered had been doing hard drugs and sleeping around behind Castiel's back. Castiel always had a feeling that this was going on, but could never pinpoint anything exact until he flipped through the text messages in Crowley's phone. After that he called it quits, and despite Crowley's numerous pleas, he never took him back. But Castiel understood that his past four years with Crowley did unspeakable damage to his self-esteem, and thus he was not in any eager hurry to start dating Balthazar. However, Balthazar had been single for at least eight months. On top of that, he had been set in declaring the last year and a half of his last three-year relationship "one-sided," as he wanted to break up the entire time, and was ready for a new relationship. He asked Castiel to be his boyfriend in the beginning of January, and Castiel couldn't say no. Everything went well up until February 17th, when Balthazar said he just wasn't "into it" anymore, and wanted to break up. Castiel managed to convince him to stay that day, and the first week of March, and the third week of March, and the first week of April, and the last week of April, and the second week of May.

It wasn't until an old ex of Castiel's, Anna Milton, showed up on their porch one day did everything go irreversibly south. Castiel had graduated college in the middle of May, and moved in with Balthazar and his roommates, who were also coworkers of Balthazar. Anna had showed up two days later, with a two-year old child, insisting it was Castiel's. Although Castiel vehemently denied it was his, it was technically possible, and Balthazar threw him out of the house, packing Castiel's car with his few meager belongings and driving it out into the street. Castiel left that night and slept on a sawdust-covered carpet in a friend's basement. The next day he waited until Balthazar got off of work before coming to his apartment for the rest of his things. Balthazar, quick to anger, almost stabbed Castiel with a kitchen knife before he was able to get away. Two weeks later, the DNA test came back and Castiel was able to prove that Anna's daughter was not his. He rushed to Balthazar, eager to reconcile, only to watch Balthazar rip the results up in front of him without looking at it. Balthazar had started telling his friends and family that Castiel was indeed the father of this child and had gone to great lengths to keep it in secret. Castiel was desperate to make people know the truth, but no one wanted to listen to him. All of Balthazar's friends had become Castiel's friends since they all worked together, and with Balthazar gone, any friendships that they might have had broke with it.

Castiel spent the next few weeks in severe depression, sometimes sitting for hours on end staring at a blank wall in a room he found off Craigslist. An old peer who he had graduated with was moving away, and graciously donated a great deal of furniture to Castiel, including a bed so Castiel didn't have to sleep on the dusty wooden floor anymore. Castiel quickly realized that he didn't have the funds in order to continue living there, as he was slowly draining his bank account in the form of student loans, and so he quickly looked around for a summer job. He managed to snag one at a call center, answering calls about a major company's privacy policy changes. The highlight of his days began sitting next to a sixty-two year old woman who insisting that she was a "strictly devout Baptist and a damn proud conservative Republican" and spent most of the days talking about how badly Obama screwed up the country, that the world needed to accept Jesus, and that "Afro-Americans" needed to calm down because slavery wasn't as bad as the Holocaust. Although her speeches went way beyond the realm of offensive, everyone seemed to shrug her off as senile and so Castiel was stuck listening to her rants day in and day out, wondering what happened in his life to deserve this sort of punishment.

He thought about Balthazar almost constantly, until he eventually decided that he never had a real relationship with Balthazar to begin with. He looked back through every single text message they had sent to each other. Every email, every picture, every moment was scrutinized and dissected. It was pain-staking work, but Castiel worked nine hours a day, and received one call around every ninety minutes, granting him plenty of free time for his obsession. Eventually, Castiel picked out things that he should never have been okay with - such as when Balthazar pretended to pass out and stop breathing in the middle of an argument simply to "see what Cas would do." Eventually Cas realized that it was impossible to keep a relationship with someone who was so insistent on ending things, such as Balthazar had been, and concluded that Balthazar was just using the Anna situation as an excuse to push Castiel out of his life altogether - if he didn't orchestrate the whole thing with Anna himself.

Bitter and cynical, Castiel withdrew within himself. All of his closest friends had moved away, and now Castiel had no idea what to do with himself. He had wanted to stay with Balthazar, start a life with Balthazar, but that was now impossible. He had a tiny apartment, worked a minimum wage job, and had absolutely no direction for his life. What was worse was probably how little he seemed to care about anything. It felt as if his entire world had collapsed around him, and he was sitting on the smoldering embers just watching everything burn.

In mid-July, Balthazar sent Castiel a message out of nowhere, asking to meet up to give Castiel back some of his things that he had left behind in exchange for a toolbox he had accidently given Castiel when he had kicked him out. Castiel agreed, and met him at a park not far from where they both lived. It was a small town, and Castiel ended up living only about twenty blocks from Balthazar. Balthazar was short with him, but from the moment Castiel laid eyes on him, his heart skipped and he fell for him all over again. But Balthazar insisted that their relationship and Castiel himself was in his past, and he was determined to let it stay that way.

"Good luck," Balthazar said evenly, extending his hand.

"No hug?" Castiel tried to joke.

Balthazar narrowed his eyes and lowered his hand. "Good-bye, Castiel." Without another word, he got in his car and drove away.

Castiel slung one leg into his car and pulled the rest of himself in, suddenly feeling as he weighed a thousand pounds. This was it. That was it. That moment, the moment Balthazar got back in the car, marked the end of things, forever. Castiel sent a message to Balthazar saying he was sorry that things had ended up this way between them but he really did wish him the best. Which prompted Balthazar to respond, which prompted Castiel to respond, which led to Balthazar declaring that they could text each other until they went to bed that night. So Castiel laid in bed all night, texting Balthazar, telling him how miserable he was, telling him about his new job, how it wasn't fair how Anna had stepped in and ruined their lives. But as soon as he brought up Anna, Balthazar said that he would put down his phone immediately and stop answering if Castiel brought up how the child wasn't his again. So Castiel relented. In the early hours of the morning, Castiel began to feel sleepy. Balthazar told Castiel not to contact him for at least a year, although in his ideal world he would never hear from Castiel again. Castiel, determined not to beg, asked if it would be possible to consider a relationship later on down the road. Balthazar told him no, that that was impossible, and not to hold on to hope because it was never going to happen. Castiel childishly reminded him to never say never, prompting Balthazar to say, "Good-bye Castiel" for the final time. Castiel hesitated for a moment before sending back, "I'll still hope for reconciliation in the future, but that will be my secret." And then his trademark, "See you soon." That message was sent at 1:10 AM, and as far as Castiel knew, the last message he would ever send to Balthazar. Balthazar, the man he once exchanged eight thousand text messages with daily on average, was now gone from his life forever. It was like someone had planted a stick of dynamite in his chest and just blew him up.

Castiel pressed his face into his pillow and let the painful, racking sobs flood through him until his phone beeped beside him. Thinking it was Balthazar, Castiel grabbed at it frantically. At 1:12, exactly two minutes after his last conversation with Balthazar, he got a message from someone he had not seen in at least four or five months. Dean Winchester.

Dean: heyy

Castiel: hey how are you?

Dean: summer can't complain how are you?

Which then prompted Castiel to explain all about him and Balthazar and the child that wasn't really his. After he typed the message, almost a page long, he tossed his phone off the bed and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Why had he told Dean that? He was stupid, that was why. It was because he was stupid. So...so...so...stupid....

Castiel woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through his window. He picked up his phone gingerly, opening his messages. The last four were from Dean, sympathizing for what happened to him and asking if he was still in town.

Cas: Mmhmm

Dean: Great! Do you want to hang out some time?

Cas: Yeah that sounds good. I need to get out some

Dean: Hmmm how does next weekend sound?

Cas: That works for me. I'm actually off Sunday/Monday so I can hang out Saturday night?

Dean: Okay what about Wednesday?

Cas: Uhhhh well I work til 7 so I can do any time after 8

Dean: Actually do you want to hang out tonight?

Cas: Ummm well I actually have guitar lessons tonight so I won't get out til 10 so that might be a bit late

Dean: Well I don't usually go to bed until 3 so that's fine with me

Cas: Okay then if it's good for you :) I'll text you when I get out tonight

Dean: Can't wait! 

 

Castiel texted him his address a little later and went to work. He didn't honestly think of anything happening between him and Dean. The signs were probably there, but Castiel was still too fixated on his conversation with Balthazar to think about it. Castiel was angry, but this time, at himself. He had approached Balthazar like a servile little puppy, almost begging him to take him back, when Castiel should have been the one to tell him off. And now he couldn't talk to him for a year, or Balthazar had threatened to call the police. It was too much.

Work crawled by as it usually did, and guitar lessons carried on as normal. In the middle of the one-and-a-half mile walk home, Castiel decided to text Dean and tell him to head over. Castiel had just pulled out the key to his apartment when Dean's truck pulled up in front of the house. Castiel lived on a crowded street, and so Dean pulled into the spot reserved for buses. "Hey there!" Dean said, hopping out of the truck and pulling Castiel into a hug. Castiel blinked and returned the hug.

"Uh, you should probably park somewhere else," Castiel said quickly. "This is really a bus stop."

"Eh, it's fine," Dean shrugged. "What's the worst they can do? Give me a ticket?"

"Tow it?" Castiel offered, but Dean only shrugged again, as if it made no difference to him. "Okay then, so uh, where do you want to go?"

"I don't know, you live here," Dean responded.

"Uh, to the park?" Castiel asked. Although he lived on a busy commercial street, he lived closer to the residential end of it, where there were a lot of cars but not as many shops or people.

"Sure," Dean answered. Castiel steered him left, down a dead-end street that led to a ramp that escalated into a bridge that crossed the interstate. On the other side of the path was an elementary school with a playground and a huge field. Castiel went there often to sit on the swings and brood when there was no one else around.

"Never knew this was here," Dean remarked, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looked around. Cas made some small murmur of agreement in the back of his throat as he looked around the area. It was desolate of people. "So what do you want to do?"

"Uh," Castiel started walking towards the park. "Usually I practice parkour here. Usually I jump over that bench, climb up that wall, vault over those poles...maybe you should try to do some parkour."

"No," he shook his head. "I already ran today."

"Oh, come on, coach of the lacrosse team can't do a little parkour?" He knew that lacrosse was an extremely physical sport, but he still wanted to try to goad him on. "Try it."

Dean jumped over the bench with ease, making every movement concise and deliberate. "There," he said with a satisfied huff.

"Okay, now follow this course," Castiel said, illustrating the distance between the bench and the wall with his finger. "Three laps. And...go!" He clapped his hands, the sound louder than he intended in the silence. 

"Three laps?" Dean whined. "And what do I get in return?"

"Something you want," Castiel replied in a childish voice, as if that was the obvious answer to the question.

"Something I want?" His voice was lower, hinting at some subtle intimation.

"Something you want," Castiel repeated, although his voice hitched in his throat.

Dean immediately went to the bench and threw himself over it. It took him a minute to hop over the eight foot wall that stood along one edge of the playground, throwing one leg over and then the other. But instead of going back to hop over the bench again, he walked over to Castiel, grabbed his face in his hands and kissed him, long and deep, his rough stubble brushing against Castiel's lips.

Castiel put his arms around Dean's neck and pushed his body against his for a moment, teasing him, before pulling away. "That wasn't three laps."

"Yeah, I don't think you care," Dean said in a low voice as he pulled Cas flush against him, one of his hands dipping into the edge of Castiel's pants, who groaned against his lips. Castiel tried to put himself in another perspective, as if this was a movie. Widescreen-shot of an elementary school playground, two figures intertwined in a romantic kiss in the backdrop. But it wasn't romantic. It wasn't even cheesy. It was something else entirely.

This time Dean pulled away and grabbed Cas' forearm gently as he led him towards the field. "So tell me about yourself. What are you into?"

Cas considered this a moment, trying to think. He liked to sing and play the guitar. He liked to do parkour. He liked to go to the movies? Hang out with friends? Write songs? Suddenly his interests sounded so lame. "You first. What are you into?"

"Oh you know." His voice started casual and then got lower. "Biting, scratching...choking."

"Oh," Castiel nodded quickly. Oh. Oh. Right. Okay. From guitar to biting and scratching. Good thing he didn't go first.

"So what do you like?" Dean asked. Castiel was silent for a moment, pondering this. Sex with Balthazar had been fantastic, like, beyond fantastic, but it had all been very vanilla. He decided to go the safe route.

"Oh, what's the fun if I just tell you?" he teased. Dean made a small noise of appreciation in the back of his throat and slipped his arm around Cas' shoulders.

"Oh, I think we're going to have a lot of fun together, you and I," Dean sighed. "So, do you like choking?"

"Maybe," Castiel replied, appreciative of the darkness hiding the blush that had crept into his cheeks. He had never been asked a question like that out right. It was...unnerving.

"Maybe," Dean repeated, spinning around suddenly and grabbing Castiel by the throat. Castiel let his body go limp as Dean's fingers clenched. Their eyes met for a moment, Dean's glowing emerald ones peering into Cas' bright ocean blue ones, before he lowered his mouth gently closer to Cas'. Cas made a small noise in his throat, holding tight to the corner of his mouth that he had pulled up in a defiant smirk. Dean kissed him gently on the lips before sucking his bottom lip and releasing his grip. "You like it."

"Hmm," Castiel walked along beside him, determined not to give anything away.

"You can ask me anything, by the way," Dean offered suddenly. "I'm an open book, and I don't get offended by anything at all. Like, seriously. Anything."

"Neither do I," Castiel said happily, glad to have such an important, fundamental thing in common. "I have no shame."

"Good."

"So how many people have you slept with?"

Castiel expected him to be taken a bit taken aback by the question, but the answer was a simple, unabashed, "Seventeen."

"Seventeen?" Castiel gawked back at him. A completely involuntary "man-slut" slipped out past his verbal filter and into the air.

"Man-slut?" Dean repeated. His voice was a bit stiffer, as if he had actually taken offense to that. "Since high school?" Castiel shrugged, unsure of how to apologize when he still believed seventeen was a high number. "I'm bi too, though I haven't slept with any girls. Yet. But I'm going to try it soon."

"Gotta try everything once," Castiel said with an affirmative head nod, trying to restore the peace between them.

"Yup," Dean agreed, his voice resuming its usual tone.

"Sometimes twice." Castiel shrugged good-naturedly. "You know, got to mix it up a little bit. See other people. First girl may not be any good, you know?"

Dean laughed and grinned at Cas, pleased that he seemed to agree with what he would later learn was Dean's life philosophy. "How about you?"

"How many girls have I slept with?" Cas asked. "None."

Dean laughed again, a care-free, pleasant sound. "Yeah, I thought so. Guys?"

"Four," Castiel admitted nervously. "Four? Five." Dean nodded, as if this was understandable. Castiel had thought that that number was high. Apparently not by Dean's standards.

"You know," Dean started. "I was a bit disappointed when you started dating your ex. But I'm sorry to say that I'm glad your ex turned out to be an ass. I'm sure that makes me a dick, but well, if he wasn't I wouldn't be here with you."

"Watch out ladies and gentleman, we have a romantic over here," Castiel teased. "So uh, what is this? A friends-with-benefits thing? A dating-to-be-more-maybe-lead-to-relationship thing? Like, what is this?"

"I don't really care," Dean shrugged. Castiel almost stopped in his tracks. "I'm an Aquarius. I'm like the river, I just kind of go with the flow. If we do, that's okay. If we don't, that's okay too. Whatever you want."

"Heh, okay," Castiel said slowly, trying to figure out not only what that meant but also what he wanted. It wasn't something he could figure out at this moment in time. Dean had messaged him out of nowhere last night, which also happened to be the last time he saw Balthazar. It was a dark cloud that he just couldn't shake. He needed some time to think things over. He was only twenty-one. He knew he liked to do parkour. He knew he liked to sing and play guitar. But how was he supposed to know what or who he really wanted out of life?

They had been idly walking around the streets, and Castiel noticed they were about a block from his apartment. Dean seemed to notice this too, as he asked, "So, what do you want to do? Go back to my place? Go back to yours? Keep walking around?"

"We can start heading back to my place if you want," Castiel answered. He tried to keep his voice even, but felt a little unsteadiness creeping through. It was obvious what going back to his apartment would imply.

"After you," Dean said, extending his arm in a gentleman-like manner. As Cas passed him, Dean wrapped that arm around Castiel's waist, using his other arm to trap Cas in a headlock. "You like this?"

Cas opened his mouth to say something sarcastic or witty, but all that came out was a strangled gasp of air. It surprised him. He wasn’t in any pain, he wasn’t getting lightheaded, and yet he couldn’t speak, like Dean was closing off his windpipe. 

“Good boy,” Dean said as he released him. “You know, I could take you right now if I wanted to, right here on your neighbor’s lawn, and I bet you wouldn’t mind a bit.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly my neighbor’s lawn,” Castiel said a bit awkwardly. “Besides, they’ll think we’re fighting or you’re raping me and they’ll call the police.”

“Don’t worry, I’d let you finish up long before they got here,” Dean answered. Castiel felt his heart skip a beat in his chest and realized there was nothing he could possibly say to that. 

They crossed the street and entered the side door to Cas’ apartment which led them straight into the kitchen after two flights. “Want anything?” Cas asked, pulling open the refrigerator door. Dean walked around to the other side, leaning over the door and peaking in. 

“Sure I’ll take a Mike’s.”

“Any preference?”

“Nah.”

Cas hated the limeade ones, so he quickly passed one over to Dean, grabbing a black cherry lemonade one for himself. They climbed another flight of stairs up to Castiel’s room. “You live in the third floor? In the loft?” Dean asked as they climbed the stairs.

“Yup,” Castiel answered with a shrug. “It’s not that big but it has a slopey ceiling. I like it.”

“Sounds just like my room, then,” Dean answered, popping over the Mike’s and taking a sip as Castiel unlocked his bedroom door. Castiel was lucky that the movement was able to hide his face, as he blushed at the thought of Dean’s bedroom. More specifically, at the thought of chains, handcuffs, and whatever else Dean probably kept within easy reach. Castiel didn’t have any toys - didn’t even have any condoms either, come to think of it – sex with Balthazar had been good, very good, but vanilla just the same. 

Castiel opened the door to the room and stepped inside, flicking on the lights. It wasn’t much. Bed on one side of the room, desk and file cabinet in another corner, dresser against the far wall, across from the windows. The only real objects of note where two guitars, one electric, one acoustic, in the corner of the room beside the desk. Castiel had several items of interest, such as a baby fox skull that he had found when he and Balthazar were vacationing at Balthazar’s parents’ house in Ithaca, but it stood on the desk in a huddled assortment of other figurines and knick-knacks, asserting its value.

“So what do you want to do?” Castiel asked. Dean had shut the door firmly behind him, placed his Mike’s on the dresser and sat down on the bed, gazing at Castiel with such a look of hunger that Castiel was literally lost for words. He could say no. That option was always there, hanging in front of him like a giant neon sign. He loved Balthazar. He loved Balthazar with all his heart and yet here he was. Balthazar was gone. He had made it quite clear he never wanted to see Cas again. He made it quite clear that Cas was out of his life for good and he wanted nothing more to do with him, and yet Cas still felt a strange sense of…belonging to the man. He belonged to Balthazar, heart, body, and soul.

But sex with Dean Winchester wouldn’t change that.

His feet locked in place, Castiel switched off the light switch with a simple flick of his arm. There was still a bright light emanating from the streetlight outside that made Dean’s white teeth gleam brighter as he parted his lips in a wolfish grin. In one swift movement, Dean got to his feet and had his hands on either side of Castiel’s face, pulling his lips up to meet his. In a moment of nerve, Castiel reached up and bit Dean’s lower lip quickly, sucking it gently before releasing it. 

“Oh you want to play rough?” Dean breathed, lowering his head to kiss Castiel’s neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you today.”

In response, Castiel bit Dean’s shoulder through his leather jacket, and Dean flinched a moment out of surprise. “Oh you’re definitely going to pay for that,” Dean breathed as he pushed Castiel backwards onto the bed. He grabbed the ends of his shirt and pulled it off and over his head, revealing a small dark tattoo on his chest near his heart. Castiel couldn’t make it out what it was, but it was hot nonetheless. Castiel reached to pull off his own shirt, only to meet Dean’s hands as he anxiously pulled the shirt off Castiel’s head.

Dean pushed himself over Castiel, closing the space between their bodies. Dean’s hands immediately went to Castiel’s waist, grinding their hips together in a rhythmic pattern. Castiel ran his hands through Dean’s hair, wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, scratched his fingernails along Dean’s back, gently and teasing at first, but raking across Dean’s smooth skin as Dean bit down on his earlobe, pulling it into his mouth. 

As he kissed Dean, felt the rough stubble against his lips and face, he tried not to think of Balthazar. This wasn’t about love. This wasn’t about connection. On his first night with Balthazar, he had just wanted to touch him, to see feel every inch of him, just because the moonlight glowed off his soft skin with the same glow that Castiel felt touch his cheeks every time Balthazar smiled at him. It was a warmth that transcended words; it was as if an unspoken bond had developed between them, as if love had blossomed had they had been too blissfully unaware to notice it. At least Balthazar had been.

Dean bit Castie’s shoulder so hard, Castiel couldn’t tell if it was blood or saliva dripping down his arm. A low growl escaped Dean’s throat, as if he could tell Castiel’s mind was starting to wander elsewhere. Castiel immediately responded, flipping Dean over and straddling him, struggling to undo his belt buckle. Dean chuckled and helped him undo the clasp before taking Castiel’s hands in his as Castiel bent down to kiss him once, just softly, before he yanked Dean’s jeans down with his boxers. 

Castiel pulled off Dean’s jeans and boxers over his feet before he knelt between his legs, kissing up Dean’s inner thigh before taking Dean’s balls in his mouth. Dean grunted and then let out a soft sigh as Castiel wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock, pumping his hand up and down tauntingly slowly. Balthazar had been a delightful eight inches but Dean fell disappointingly short. 

“Like what you see?” Dean breathed as Castiel stopped sucking. 

Castiel hesitated a moment, looking from Dean’s cock to Dean. “Where’s the rest of it?” he asked sincerely. 

Dean chuckled good-naturedly and grabbed the back of Castiel’s head, forcing it down on his slender cock. Castiel wrapped his lips around Dean’s cock and sucked, gently licking Dean’s tip before he went back down. He continued the pattern slowly, enjoying the sound of Dean moaning. He lifted his head off of Dean’s cock and made sure he got eye contact before he released a drip of saliva which slid down Dean’s shaft. Dean closed his eyes and leaned back his head slightly and groaned as Castiel slid up and down his shaft, wrapping Dean’s shaft with his tongue. 

“Oh, that feels good,” Dean panted as Cas kept up his slow and steady rhythm, occasionally pausing to give his jaw a break by kissing Dean’s inner thigh. “Cas. I’m close. Faster.” He grabbed Cas on either side of the head with his hands and forced him up and down his cock quickly, releasing his grip once Cas got the rhythm. Dean’s hand twisted in Cas’ hair, and his hips bucked in small circles as he found his release.

“Swallow,” Dean commanded, his voice strong and authoritative, but Cas had no intention of doing anything else. Cas just closed his eyes and relished the taste sliding down his throat. 

“Good boy,” Dean smirked, pulling Cas onto the bed next to him, pressing Castiel’s behind into his languid cock. 

“I like the way you taste,” Castiel said, facing the opposite wall as Dean chuckled and nipped playfully at his ear. Castiel had taken off his jeans right before going down on Dean, which meant that Dean only had to pull aside a scrap of fabric before he could pull Castiel’s erection free from his boxers. 

“Mmm, you like that?” Dean asked as he ran his hand along Castiel’s shaft, which was extraordinarily smooth. Cas made a low groaning sound in the back of his throat, closing his eyes as he pictured Balthazar behind him. 

Oh this was horrible. This was absolutely horrible. There was no way he was going to move on from Dean if he pictured Balthazar every time he was with another man. Dean Winchester was not a replacement. Or was he? Where was his relationship with Dean going to go? Castiel did not do hook-ups. He did relationships, long-term committed relationships. No hook-ups, no flings…who was he. Or, better yet, who was he becoming?

He closed his eyes and just surrendered to the sensation, trying to feel and not to think as Dean sucked and bit at his neck and earlobe until Cas couldn’t take anymore. Dean shifted position, placing himself between Cas’ knees as Cas found his release. Dean swallowed everything, then sat back, curving the corners of his lips up in a satisfied smile. “Yummy,” he said, slapping his stomach, as he laid back down beside Cas.

But Castiel was getting too anxious by this point. This was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be with Dean. It was supposed to be with Balthazar. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, he wanted to run, be anywhere besides in bed with Dean Winchester. But he couldn’t run. There was nowhere he could go. So instead he turned around and kissed Dean as hard as he could, kissing him with everything he had, hands pressed against the side of Dean’s face. “Woah, that good, huh?” Dean asked when Castiel let go to take a breath.

But Castiel couldn’t take the feelings that were swarming inside of him like a thousand tortured souls. He kissed Dean again, shifting his hips so that he was on top of Dean, letting his body move against his. “You never get tired, do you?” Dean asked with a smirk. “Good. I like that.”

And in that moment Castiel decided to be Dean’s. Because there was no one else that wanted him at this point, and Cas only knew how to exist when he was wanted. 

\---

Dean Winchester stuck around for breakfast the following morning, chatting with him like an old friend about classes and the weather. Castiel just followed Dean’s lead, unsure of what else to do. When Dean left that morning, he kissed Cas passionately on the mouth and left with a, “See you later.” 

Dean Winchester texted him the next day just to say that he had a big bruise on his inner thigh from their night’s festivities. He also wanted to let him know that he was going out of town for the next three weeks. 

Oh. 

Castiel waited patiently for him to come back, flirted with him on the phone every couple of days, sent each other dirty pictures. But the time it took for Dean to answer steadily got longer as the days progressed, and even though they chatted over text message when Dean was back in town, Dean did not ask to come over or repeat their night’s events, despite the sexting and promises of what he would do to Castiel once he was back in town. Castiel decided he wouldn’t be needy. He wouldn’t be desperate. He would wait for Dean to make the first move.

It was a Sunday. Castiel had just gotten home from going to the movies with a couple of friends, which had become like a second family to him. He had explained to them all what was going on with Balthazar, who by this time had found a new boyfriend, which was something Castiel was barely able to cope with. Why did Balthazar get to be happy when he was the bad guy in all of this? Why did Balthazar get to move on after everything he did while Cas still squirmed and suppressed chest pains at the mere mention of his name? They hadn’t been together for at least two months, but it still felt like betrayal. 

Castiel logged on Facebook and was absent-mindedly scrolling through his feed when he saw it: Dean Winchester is a relationship with Benny Lafitte. Benny? Who was Benny? Maybe a longtime friend? Only two days ago, Dean had been sexting him, but Cas turned him down because he was with friends. So this was it? This was his punishment? “Oh, if you’re too busy to fuck me, I’ll just find someone new?” 

Castiel put both his hands over his ears and bowed his head, as if trying to block this new piece of information from his consciousness. He got that Balthazar was bad for him. It was taking months, but he was finally just starting to get it. Coupled with the fact that Balthazar himself had moved on, Castiel was starting to realize that it was over for good. But Dean? What had he done wrong there? Was he just not good enough? What was wrong with him? 

But no, really, what was wrong with him? Balthazar didn’t want him, Dean didn’t want him…Castiel sat back in his chair and curled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself like a small child seeking comfort. He sat like this for quite a while. What was he supposed to do now? 

Castiel sat back in his chair and waited. Tomorrow he would go to work, maybe hang out with his friends, maybe play some guitar or write a new song. What else was there for him to do? Castiel would just sit back and wait, wait for something else, something good, maybe someone good, to come his way, because Cas was one of those people that only knew how to exist when he was wanted. And Cas was hardly ever wanted.


End file.
